


Tangible Memories for Temporary Love

by montes-carpatus (Carpathyah)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, F/F, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Relationships, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-10-06 01:44:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10322687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carpathyah/pseuds/montes-carpatus
Summary: She carried a piece of every lover she’s been with in her pockets, as if she was mourning a divorce to a marriage that never happened.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Squint to see what I see.

She carried a piece of every lover she’s been with in her pockets, as if she was mourning a divorce to a marriage that never happened. 

Ana counted a handful of recognizable lovers on her body. The cigarette in her mouth smelled of American tobacco, something only a cowboy would smoke. It stuck to her being and Ana remembered pulling it out of her mouth at the age of 19.

“Don’t let that rascal give you bad habits, Angela,” she warned. She scoffed at her, and told her that she was no longer a child, and she could do whatever she want. She was no mother figure to her. 

She left him. She never explained herself other than she returned all the flannel he left behind in her room. He picked it up at the Overwatch headquarters looking like a lost puppy. 

“Your first love always hits the hardest,” Ana commented as she sat down on the bench beside her. Angela looked at her, breathing out the smoke. Her red, blotchy eyes were indications of a long crying session. “Trust me. I would know.” Angela moved closer and leaned her head on her shoulder. She didn’t cry, but Ana felt her body shake as she stroked her hair.

Dog tags didn’t fit with her style when they dangled at her chest. She hid them now, but refused to take them off. Ana touched the metal between her fingers; feeling her lingering body heat in them.

“My, my, wasn’t he quite the lover?” she asked. She huffed to show otherwise. Ana chuckled. He was the token of a man; chiseled from the gods themselves. She fancied him for his strength and dedication, but war was hard and he was on the field more than he was in her bed. 

They were still together when the accident happened, but remembered the faint smell of leather when they last met. In her hospital bed, she giggled to herself as she finally figured it all out. 

“Angela, your horns grow longer by the day,” she thought to herself. 

Her name slipped her mind as she watched Jack walk away from her. She saw the Switzerland headquarters fall on television. The crumbling of what Angela called home for most of her life. Her heart tightened at the thought of what had become of her.

“Jack, I need to ask you something, about someone,” she asked out loud. He paused in his steps to look at her. “Is Angela alright?”

He chuckled. “Last I heard of her, she left a note on my bed saying that we shouldn’t be seeing each other anymore.”

He didn’t know, but it brought a short smile to her mouth to hear that she didn’t change after she disappeared.

When she returned to Overwatch, her heart jumped at the sight of Angela Ziegler, a doctor now, and the Head of Overwatch Medical Research Department. She felt a sense of pride as she strut up to her in full armour and wings. Her skin glowed with a questionable youth. Her eyes teared up as Ana wrapped her arms around her torso. Angela leaned over to bury her face in Ana’s cloak.

With a cigarette hanging from her lips, Angela tried to conceal the gold bangle around her wrist in the sleeve of her sweater. Ana might had lost an eye, but she was no stranger to whom those bangles belonged to. It brought up a motherly anger that filled her her soul as she assumed that she carried the remnants of her daughter’s broken heart. 

Angela finished her cigarette and walked back into the headquarters with her sleeves over her hands. Her bad habit gave her a sickly look under the neon lights. She acknowledged her but didn’t say a word. Ana kept her words to herself for the moment.

She eyed any interaction Angela had with Fareeha. It was mostly casual, with shared laughs and giggles. She relaxed.

“You’re dating my daughter,” she bluntly said as Angela stood under the back entrance to Gibraltar to avoid the rain. She nearly choked on the smoke as her sudden presence scared her. Angela cleared her throat as she turned to her.

“Took you long enough,” she commented. She pulled her lab coat sleeves to uncover the bangle. Ana wanted to slap her. 

“Do you love her?”

“I loved her.”

Angela’s back was slammed against the wall with a sudden, unexpected force that made her teeth clench from the pain.

“You _loved_ her? _Loved_? Did you think I wouldn’t find out about this?” she screamed in her face. 

“She left me. She’s the one that left me,” Angela whimpered. The stench of tobacco could make Ana nauseous as she took deep breaths to process the information. 

She was torn.

Angela’s crying could barely be heard under the sound of thunder in the distance. Ana felt the slightest bit of rain hit her in the back as she pulled away. Her hands and shoulders sore from the violence. She left Angela fall into her arms. 

She carried pieces of her lovers on herself, to remind herself of better times when she wasn’t burdened by ghosts in her head. 

Angela laid in Ana’s bed. She stared up at the spinning ceiling fan. She smelled black tea brewing next to her. Everything was coming down on her all at once, like she was being buried alive under cement. She became hyper aware of time passing, feeling like she had so much to do, and she was doing nothing. She closed her eyes and let herself relax.

“Chamomile won’t do much for that busy head of yours,” Ana said as she set two tea sets on the nightstand. She pulled off her thick sweater and laid next to Angela. She heard the smallest chuckle. 

Angela turned her body towards Ana. “I don’t want to love anymore,” she confessed. 

“No one is telling you to love,” Ana replied as she twisted herself to mirror Angela. She brushed some hair out of Angela’s face, watching her face scrunch up and blink at the touch. 

“Were you lonely, after the accident?” she asked. 

“There were times in Poland that I felt like hiding away was a crazy idea. I missed Fareeha. Soon, Talon kept me too busy to think about loneliness.” 

Angela stayed silent for a while, looking at the tones of grey, black, and white that now made up Ana’s hair. Her skin reflected her age and she only wished she could keep Ana forever. The wrinkles in her skin contrasted against her falsely young flesh. 

“While I was in Iran, I met a woman dressed in white. I was 31, and it was the first time I woke up to an empty bed. I knew all at once, what it meant to leave love behind.” Angela sighed. Ana reached out to stroke her cheek. “I have nothing to remind myself of her. No object of the time.”

Ana saw glimpses of the dog tags again, the name Jack Morrison etched into the metal. The gold bangle, evidently too large for her small wrist. 

“I loved Fareeha. She will be the last person I could ever love,” she trailed off in soft hiccups. 

Ana brought her close as she hyperventilated but didn’t cry. She had cried enough that day. Ana buried her nose in her blond hair, smelling the slight scent of orchids and rain.  She stroked her back as she calmed down. 

The tea had gone cold, as they fell asleep to the sound of the rain hitting the window. Angela had curled herself into her, nesting in her chest. Ana’s arm rested on her waist. 

Love carried itself in a different way. 


End file.
